Fallin'
by kiwi-messer
Summary: Hermione is depressed, Draco in love with her. Will he be able to say what she needs to hear before it is too late? Rating for non graphic suicide theme.


She was Head Girl. She was a young impassioned woman. She had the world at her fingertips. She was a member of the Golden Trio for godsake!!!!!! So why was she currently locked in the first floor girls bathroom crying like a first year? Hermione Granger stood and moved over to the sinks, rinsing her face. The mirror showed her a reflection of a face with puffy red eyes, a red nose, pale skin and messy brown curls. _Oh great _she though miserably, this didn't help her cause. She let go of the crumbled yellow parchment and it floated to the ground, landing in a pool of water. She watched as the ink ran and the words "Magical Schools Yule Ball." danced their way to the drain in the centre of the room. She didn't pick it up but carefully avoided stepping on it as she left the bathroom for dinner.

Of all her friends only Ginny noticed her upset look. But Ginny tactfully said nothing. Hermione let more tears roll down her face and into her mashed pumpkin. The smartest girl at Hogwarts, crying over the fact she didn't have a date for tomorrow's ball. With a start she stood up and left the table. Why was it always her left out? Why couldn't she get a date to anything? She was seventeen and still had not been kissed. Was it though some fault of hers? Was she ugly? Fat? What ever it was, it was clear she was simply unwanted. Love, Romance that was all meant for girls like Pansy Parkinson, beautiful well breed purebloods…. Or girls like Ginny, sweet and quirky. What did she have? Nerdy little bookworm…. Not something guys liked.

Hermione was too upset to be concerned by the mere details such as where she was going and it was to her great dismay that she found herself lost. In fact she found herself somewhere on the third floor. Trudging backwards she past a portrait hang on the wall, she double backed to see the picture. It was of a young woman in a white dress standing on a tower…. Hermione watched as the woman flung herself of the tower. She turned to the painting next to it.

"Who is this woman?" the painting shook his head.

"have you heard of Lavina Sytherin? No of course not. She was Sytherin's daughter. A lovely young woman but so lonely. Her father was too busy to pay her attention and she never had a date or anything. Threw herself off the tallest tower one day. Such a tragedy. Of course after that her father became darker, hurt… he wanted to do anything to make up for it but failing that he threw himself into this school."

Hermione watched the woman a few more times and then she walked away, ideas flowing though her head. She had a dress to get for this ball and she knew just what one she needed.

Hermione was wrong when she thought only Ginny noticed her mood. A pale young man from Sytherin noticed too. He watched as she stood and left the great hall. Not that he could tell her just yet but Draco Malfoy was in love with her. With the upcoming war he couldn't openly declare his love for her just now, he'd risk compromising his cover as a spy. But he loved her, he loved the way she brushed her hair until it caught the sun and shone, he loved the way she smiled and laughed, he loved the way she was the strongest of the Golden trio and took no shit from anyone. Just thinking about how much he loved her made him ache, maybe he should risk his cover and tell her….. No it was better if she didn't know. She should hate him, in case they came face to face and he had to hurt one of her friends. Dumbledore had already said how important it was that he was always careful, her knowing could put her at risk. He couldn't do that. He loved her. Maybe when the time came, their time came he could ask for her forgiveness. At least Draco could protect her, he was in the inner circle. He could keep her safe as much as possible. He didn't know if he could live with out her. No, he knew. He couldn't live without her.

He stood and walked away from his table, he needed fresh air.

The next night Hermione stood in her Head Girl room, Terry Boot the Head Boy had already left for the ball. She was dressed in a flowing white silk dress with her hair down and curled around her shoulders. Outside her window she could hear the pops as the international students arrived for the ball. Well tonight was her night. She looked over at the note on her dresser and then left her room.

Arriving down stairs she slipped unnoticed into the ball room, unnoticed except for one. Draco Malfoy stood at the stair case and watched her descend. She was beautiful, also her dress looked very familiar but he couldn't place it. He watched as she slipped under Weasel's arm and into the dance. Her 'friends' hadn't even noticed her. He winced at the harshness of it.

Hermione made her rounds quickly. Dance with the other Head Boy's, thank Dumbledore for a lovely night and check the punch wasn't spiked. With the completion of her tasks she turned to leave when someone grabbed her sleeve,

"Hermione," her name was only breathed, but she heard. She heard over the music, over the students. She turned and faced the grey stormy eyes of Draco Malfoy. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave her alone, after all she had the tallest tower to reach. But she forgot all when he opened his mouth.

"You're beautiful." she froze. This was not part of the plan. "Dance with me." still in shock she offered no resistance as the man that had spent seven years bullying and belittlingly her. After all he was not that man tonight. He took her out to the dance floor and kissed her hand before taking them both out into a waltz. He had finally remembered where he knew that dress and in doing so understood what she meant to do. That was something he would not let happen.

The clock struck one when they finally finished dancing and students were going to bed. Malfoy took Hermione aside and whispered in her ear. "Hang on and be strong. One day the world will be ready for us. That day I want to claim you as my love." then he kissed her sweetly and departed. Hermione was left on the bottom of the stairs. She WAS beautiful, she WAS loved, she WAS good enough. She was in shock.

Now she could sleep in peace, her plans to jump forgotten and her life not ending but rather just beginning. Now she had someone to fight for. Someone to, dare she say it, love.


End file.
